The Dark and the Light
by Rose120196
Summary: My version of American Horror Story season one. More smut, and all focused around Violate and Tate. No Tate raping Vivian is going to be in this story! Please review, lots of lemons to come. M rating is for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Violets POV

"The light it different out here. It's softer." My mother said in an overly optimistic tone. It was different for sure, more of it, piercing and almost blinding, illuminating the bright green welcome to Los Angeles sign.

"It's called smog." I bite back sarcastically. This city of perpetual summer and fun may actually end up being worse than the east coast, which despite the assholes I was surrounded by at least had changing seasons. Not just the static of Los Angeles, which seemed to permit even the inhabitants of this rich and pampered town.

"It's something to be excited by! Time to stop smoking cigarettes and start taking deep breathes" my father says seemingly oblivious, or more likely uncaring of my disgruntled mood. The entire ride here him and my mother have plastered these fake smiles on, readying themselves for the plasticity of California. After the my mother had a miscarriage my father proceeding to cheat on her, due to his "emotional stress" after the event. And despite my protests they decided we needed to move all the way across the country for "a change of scenery and a fresh start". Not that I even remotely enjoyed living and going to school in Philadelphia. I had no friends, was an outcast, and hated everyone I was surrounded by. I could only imagine how much worse it would be in California, homeland of rich snobs and fake people with even faker plastic surgery procedures.

"I need to go to the bathroom" I complain , but my father immediately shuts me down.

"We're almost there".

"I need to go", I insist, but am completely ignored. Yet more evidence of there empathy towards me

"I bet if baby had to take a shit you'd stop" I angrily mutter to myself.

"Violet!" My mother admonishes, " You know I hate it when you curse!". But surprise surprise she doesn't deny the fact that she's do anything for her little shit of a dog, whom is now her security blanket after the miscarriage.

"You know I'm really glad we named you violet instead of our second choice", my father said with a smile in his voice.

"Which was?" I question.

"Sunshine" my mother says in a deadpan voice. I can't help but smirk over that. For a second I'm brought back to a time before the miscarriage and cheating, the lies and sadness. A time when we could all joke and laugh, not stepping on eggshells around one another for fear of creating an outburst.

My dad try's to pull my moms hand into his own, but she immediately dislodges her hand a casts him a look . Oh yeah, now I remember where I am, driving in a stuffed car with my parents desperately trying to rekindle there marriage by making a move all the way across the country. It's sad that what I know, and they don't, is that a change of scenery isn't going to help jack shit.

...

Oh god, I think to myself as we pull up to the Victorian mansion that we will probably be buying today. Not only do I have to be the new kid, but the new kid that lives in the creepy old house on the block. The middle aged realtor is waiting for us at the front door and cheerfully waves as we pull up. My parents introduce themselves and me, and then we're lead inside. I can't deny it, the house is pretty awesome. Lots of different colored glass windows, and "real Tiffany fixtures" I hear the realtor say. While she drones on about the history of the house and how it was built by "a doctor of the stars" in the 1920s, I follow the barking of my mothers dog. I find her planted in front of a door that appears to lead to a basement, yapping her head off. When I go to open the door it's pretty jammed up, and after an epic battle between me and the door handle I am victorious. The door ominously swings open revealing a dark stairwell leading down.

"Are you coming?" I asked the little white fur ball that was interested in the door the first place. She takes one step forward, whimpers, and the scampers away at full speed. Well, things just got a little more interesting. I take a deep breathe, steel myself for whatever I may find in the depths of this ominous looking basement and head down.

The basement is very dim, with only one lamp swigging in the middle to illuminate the entire room, and a door in the corner leading to the back yard. There's a decent amount of furniture from previous owners covered by sheets and blankets, moth eaten with a decent helping of dust on top. As I explore I can't help but feel like I'm being watched.

Tate's POV

Just another boring day in the murder house, I sigh as I see the new potential victims pull in the driveway to view the house. The realtor currently has on a mask of ease and friendliness, but I see what lies behind that mask. She's terrified that once these people find out the history of the house, they'll bolt, like all the others do. I can't help but chuckle to myself. Watching her attempt to sell the house is almost as good as tv, which we currently lack because of the lack of inhabitants. If it wasn't for these showings I'd probably die of boredom. And more than the boredom is the ever present darkness. Sometimes i feel like it will consume me, and then other times it actually does and I don't know where the darkness starts and I ends. Before my thoughts can go any deeper I rush downstairs to distract myself with the new family.

Through observation and listening to their conversations I learn that the family consists of Ben Harmon, his wife Vivian Harmon, and their daughter Violet. Though they are trying to act the part of the happy family, I see the strain between Ben and his wife. When he takes a step towards her she takes a step back, when he reaches a hand to her she subtly rebuffs him. And I watch the girl, their daughter, witness this and take it in, and try to turn the discomfort she gets from there damaged relationship into indifference. I recognize these things all so well because that is what I had to deal with in my human life, my entire childhood. I can't pin point it, but something about this girl reminds me of myself. All of the sudden I hear a thump from Thaddeus downstairs and their dog goes running to the basement door, Violet along with it. I follow her and watch as she struggles with the door, clearly determined to get to the other side. When she smiles after successfully prying the door open, I can finally see how beautiful she really is, and I'm taken back by my sudden desire for this stranger. In a second I've dematerialized myself into the basement beside Thaddeus. To most he was terrifying. Who could blame them for fearing the little ghost; with the dirty stained rags that clung to his body mostly because of the layer of filth and grime covering him, his pale deathly skin, multiple rows of sharp teeth, and pitch black flat and lifeless eyes, Thaddeus looked like something strait out of a nightmare. But where others viewed him with a mixture of disgust and fear I couldn't help but feel sympathy. He couldn't control his nature any more than I could control mine.

When he shifts to give our new visitor his version of a welcoming, I quickly grab his shoulder and whisper a firm but soft "No". He gives me a disgruntled look of disappointment, but obeys, knowing that I'm the one in charge here.

After Violets curiosity with the basement is quenched she makes her way back upstairs, just in time to hear the realtor finally reveal the gay men's death. For the firsts time I wish the realtor didn't have to tell the Harmons these gory details of the house.

Violets POV

The basement wasn't as exciting as I had originally hoped, but creepy enough none the less. I still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me, but it wasn't a bad feeling, more curious. As I enter the living room I hear the realtor tell my parents that a murder suicide occurred in the house 3 years ago.

"Where did it happen?" I asked, startling everyone, who probably didn't even notice my absence.

"The basement", the realtor says.

Hmm things definitely just got more interesting.

"We'll take it." I say with a smirk.

...

As I'm walking through a quad from health to physics I desperately suck on my cigarette, the only thing keeping me grounded and calm. All of these people, pushing and shoving against me, boxing me in; it's too much. My anxiety it sky rocketing through the roof and every time I brush against someone I can't help but clench my fists and and wince with discomfort. It's just as bad as I thought it would be. All of the kids are rich and preppy, not even attempting the fake smiles that the teachers do. Walking through the hallway I'm forced to hear the constant clammer of their stupidity, whether it be cheating or drugs. I take another drag of my cigarette and my heart rate begins to slow, my anxiety pulling back like a tide going out to sea. I sigh as the girls beside me talk about there nipples being numb after doing coke off of them.

And then everything goes to shit as the most animated one looks up to see me smoking. Her face morphs from a look of obnoxious superiority to pure venom in a split second.

She runs over to me before I've even had time to process what's happened.

"Student council banned smoking on school grounds!" She shouts in me face.

"I'm so sorry", one hundred percent sincere and stomp the butt out right away. I can't believe I've already fucked up and offended someone in school, the last thing I need is to draw more attention to myself. I learn soon enough when this girls face morphs in even more intense fury and she swiftly picks up the butt.

"What is wrong with you?!" She screeches in my face. Any apprehension or guilt I felt due to the cigarette melts away and is replaced with anger.

"Why are you doing this to me?", I ask. "I don't even know you".

"Maria's grandmother died from lung cancer" one of her clones- oh wait I mean friends pipes in. The other one adds "second hand smoke kills". I actually can't believe that these girls openly talk about doing cocaine yet are appalled by cigarettes.

At this point her friends start to try to pull her away.

"Just leave it alone Maria", they suggest but she's not subdued in the least.

" I want to watch the bitch eat it!", she shrieks and grabs onto my shoulder attempting to shove the butt in my mouth. I manage to grab her arm and push her away, but with her holding me my only option is to spit in her face. This surprises her and finally I slip out of her grasp. Fuck her I think, and laugh and as run to my next class. Thankfully the rest of my day passes by without any incidents and I soon return home.

I hear talking from my dads office upstairs which is normal, but for some reason am drawn to it. Before I know it I'm peeking through the crack of the door into my fathers office viewing the most attractive patient he's ever had. He appears to be seventeen or eighteen with curly blond hair that ends right above his eyes. He's not the fake tan like everyone else here in California, but has much more of a pale complexion that still manages to be attractive, boyish but still somehow masculine. Dark hooded eyes peek under from those blond curls that seem much older than the young cherubic face they belong to, and for a second I could swear he glances strait at me. I'm shocked when just his hooded gaze causes heat to bloom within my stomach, and makes me burn in ways I didn't know possible.

Tate POV

To my utter relief the Harmons buy the house, and I have free reign to spy on Violet. She chooses my room and I watch her sleep. The more time around her the more I like her, like the cute way that she mumbles in her sleep and tosses and turns, her hair a beautiful golden halo spanned around her head. I shamelessly watch her from a corner of the room, and when her blankets twist around her I see that she's only sleeping in panties. Long supple legs lead up to a beautiful ass that just begs to be touched, groped, and smacked. The more she twists and turns the more of that ass is revealed and I use every ounce of strength I possess to no leap onto the bed and palm those delectable curves.

But no, I can't do that. I must wait, be patient, woo her. I leap up and distract myself by inspecting her cd collection which I'm pleased to find consists of all of the bands I loved when I was alive; Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, The Offspring, Tool, the list could go on and on. All 90s alternative grunge groups. I glance over at the delectable girl tangled within the sheets and decide here and now that I will have her. And what Tate Langdon wants, Tate Langdon always gets.

...

Even though I'm doing this for Violet, and not really in therapy, I still experience flashbacks on my last years alive. Of all of the psychiatrists and therapists my mother sent me to after I earned labels like "social outcast, trouble maker, manipulator, etc...". Memories of cocktails of pills for breakfast meant to "fix me", but really just opened doors to the recreational use of those pills. I shake those thoughts and focus on the task at hand, which is having a therapy session with Ben Harman. Even in death my mother can't help but try to fix me, and suggested to me that I start seeing the good doctor. At first I had blown it off as a waste of time and energy, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that this would be a good way to me to meet Violet and create a relationship with her. I'll "accidentally" bump into her in the house after one of my sessions and go from there. While taking this session with the adulterous and self righteous doctor Harman may be painful, the endgame is worth it. Out of the corner of my eye I see Violet peeking through the doorway at me. I feel her eyes, a connection, and stare back at her hard for a moment before returning my attention to Ben.

"So Tate, these fantasies started two years ago, three years ago, when?"?, Ben asks.

"Two years, and it always starts the same way"

"How, tell me?" He asks

"I prepare for the noble war. I'm calm, I know the secret, I know what's coming, and I know no one can stop me, including myself. "

"Do you target people that have been mean to you or unkind?"

"I kill people I like. Some of them beg for their life. I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything. It's a filthy world we live in. It's a filthy god damn helpless world, and honestly I feel like I'm helping to take them away from the shit and the piss and the vomit that run in the streets. I'm helping to take them somewhere clean and kind. And there's something about all that blood, man. I drown in it. Now the Indians believe that blood holds all the bad spirits and once a month in ceremonies they would cut themselves to let the spirits go free. And there's something smart about that. Very smart. I like that.", I pause to take a breath and ask,

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No, I think you're creative. And I think you have a lot of pain you're not dealing with."

I proceed to tell him about my cocksucking mother, and how she drove my father away. I know the truth now, that she killed him, but in my life before death I believe he left us. And I was treating this whole session like I was still in my teen years, sharing my fantasies that plagued me my entire time in high school. I know something's wrong with me, that my urges for pain, destruction, and carnage are not normal or right. It's the darkness that I can't or don't want to get rid of. The darkness that Violet possess and is drawn to. The entire time I'm speaking I can swear I feel her eyes on me, almost burning holes into my face. As our session nears an she hurrys from her perch at the door, and I quickly say goodbye to Ben, excited for my first official meeting with Violet.

I'm surprised to find Violet in her upstairs bathroom standing as the sink and making horizontal cuts all up and down her arm. I never took much notice to her for arms before but now I see they're pale, skinny, and littered with scars and cuts. She's so mesmerized with the blood dripping onto the white porcelain that she doesn't even notice to me. She continues to cut and then watch the drip drip drip of the blood, and take a breathe in as she basks in the endorphins. I'm instantly hard as steel watching her basking in the pleasure pain of her self harm, the sight possibly one of the most erotic things I have seen. I'm agitated that I have no self control around this teenage girl. When I was living I never felt lust this strong for anyone, too consumed with my violent thoughts to notice much else, and now my urges overwhelm me. I want to lick the blood off of her wrists, push her up against the sink. I want her wet and dripping all over my fingers, and I want to be the one to cause that look of ecstasy upon her face. But I have to restrain myself, have to wait. And I'm not use to self restraint or waiting for what I want. When I gather myself and am able to speak, it comes out all wrong,

"If you want to kill yourself, cut vertically."

She whips around, shocked, and sputters, "what?"

"If you want to kill yourself, cut vertically. They can't stitch that shit up." Oh man I'm being such a dick, I must abort the mission and get out of here.

"And if you want to kill yourself try locking the door", I say then turn and leave.

Well I royally fucked that up. I resolve to go jack off to visions of blood and Violet, clear my head, and try this first meeting again.

Violets POV

After watching my dads session with Tate I'm shaken, not only front the pure lust I felt for this boy, but also that his dark and violent words were like poetry to me. Something about it was more than just a stereotypical attraction to a "bad boy", and my attraction and ability to relate to that violence scares me.

Well I guess it's time to christen my new bathroom. And by christen I mean cut myself in over the porcelain sink, bask in the pleasure I get from it, and ignore all of my thoughts and concerns. I'm on auto pilot; slice, brief sting, drip drip drip, and then the heady rush of adrenaline through my veins. When I hear a presence behind me I whirl around and am completely shocked to see my dads patient Tate. He says something about me killing myself, cutting vertically and locking the door, but I'm still shocked that he's here. Before I know it he's left, and I quickly clean myself up.

Fuck, I pray he doesn't tell my dad about this. I'll have to corner him next time him comes for a session and make sure he doesn't say anything. I'm slightly excited to have a reason to talk to him again, but already filled with nerves and anticipation for a social interaction. Normally I'm relaxed and passed out after cutting but I'm intensely stressed and nervous now. I blast some Nine Inch Nails and try to lose myself in Trent Reznors angsty yet seductive voice. I'm laying in bed, just trying to soak up the music with everything in my being, and I'm so into it I almost don't notice the now insistent rapping on my window. I sit up confused and Tate's face is staring strait at me through my bedroom window.

He puts a finger to those lips that look like they're made for kissing and signals for me to be quiet. Then he motions for me to open the window. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if it's wise of me to let one of my dads patients in our window. What's the worst that could happen, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**So just mentioning this is my first fanfic and I'd like as much constructive criticism as possible! Please please review, the more you guys review the faster I update! **

Violets POV

I hurry to let Tate in, and only when I open the window and the cool air rushes in do I realize he's hanging from lattice three story's high.

"What are you doing up here?! Get in quick!"

He flashes me a mischievous grin, and I just about melt into a puddle of goo right there. Without even thinking I grab one of his arms and start to heft him in. I'm surprised by the strength and muscle that I feel in his forearm. Suddenly I have to desire to pull that baggy sweater off and reveal everything it's hiding. That thought is knocked out of my head when he lurches through the window and lands on top of me. He manages not to crush me but I can feel his full weight on top of me, and how lean and yet strong he is everywhere. Before I have time to enjoy it he jumps up and reaches a hand down to me.

"I'm so sorry!", he exclaims and appears to be one hundred percent sincere.

"I just wanted to apologize for being such a jerk earlier, and already I'm fucking up again." He rubs the back of his neck subconsciously and stares at me from under his lashes, suddenly shy.

"It's ok I guess, you just can't say anything to my dad. Why were you up here anyway?", I ask in an accusatory tone.

"Well... I have to admit I was kind of snooping around. I just have this feeling that this house has a lot of secrets just waiting to be uncovered."

" I know what you mean about getting a weird vibe from this house. But you didn't have to climb all the way up here to apologize! It's three stories high! You would have died if you had fallen!" Tate chuckles as if there's some inside joke and explains,

"I have superb juvenile delinquent skills, including but not limited to climbing lattice to girls windows at odd hours of the night. Don't you worry about me.", he says confidently and gives me a cocky grin.

I stare at my feet in a moment of awkward silence, not knowing what to do now, but Tate just makes himself right at home. He slips his shoes off and heads over to my cd collection, choosing a Nirvana album and popping the disc in.

"What now?", I ask him, shocked that the boy I've been thinking about all day is currently standing in my room like we've known each **other** for years.

"Welllll", he drawls out.

"Since I took all that effort to get up here we should at least chill out and listen to some music. You know I cut too."

"Really?", I implore. In response he pulls his sleeves up and shows me scares, explaining events that triggered some, like the leaving of his father. I do the same, pulling my sleeves up and citing my most recent cuts to be caused by the coke head bitches at my school.

"Where do you go?", he asks.

"Westfield High. I hate it."

"That place sucks, I got kicked out of there."

We sit for hours talking about everything from our hatred of California to our philosophies on life. The more we talk the more I feel like I've known Tate forever. I'm not consumed with anxiety like I usually am in social situations, but instead words flow from me with ease. He's laying across my bed on his back and I'm leaning up against my head board when he lights up a cigarette. He takes a drag and it's one of the sexiest things I've seen. I just watch him for a minute, wrapping those lips around the cigarette and seeming to cherish and drawl out each hit. I bet that's how he kisses, I think, and then it's all I can think about. After he catches me staring he offers the cig to me and we split the rest of it, and with each hit we take the air becomes more charged with sexual tension. He stares at me hard with those dark as and says,

"I saved the last drag for you."

As I cherish this "last drag" I at this point am praying that he kisses me before he leaves. And I'm not even religious. Tate gets up and stretches, which in turn gives me a wonderful view of his slightly muscled stomach. I sigh and try not to pathetically oggle. I really do. I and walk over to him at the window.

"I had a pretty awesome time hanging out with you", he says, and stares down at me and glances at my lips.

"Me too. But we definitely shouldn't tell my dad about this."

"Yeah, that's for sure. I don't have a session again for another week." He gives me a slight frown.

"Maybe I could come over again?" He asks, and looks unsure of himself, which I can't even understand. Does he really think I'll deny him? Even if I wanted to I couldn't, these few hours with him just leaving me wanting more rather than satiating me.

"Uh sure.", I respond in an attempt to be "cool" and indifferent. Better that than looking like that pathetic fan girl that I really am I figure. The cocky smirk is now back and he glances at my lips again, which I unconsciously lick in response. I only just notice that while talking we've moved so that I'm in between Tate and the wall. He takes a step closer and now he's near enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body into mine.

" So this is goodnight then." His eyes are smoldering nearly black at this point, and his voice has become lower and gruff. He takes a step closer to me and we're touching now.

"Yeah, goodnight", I whisper, and before I know it his lips are on mine. At first it's soft and light, just gentle caresses of my lips with his own. He's dragging his fingertips up and down my arms and just these soft touches have turned me into a hot mess. But he's being too soft and gentle, and soon I start to become more aggressive with my kiss, wanting more. I open my mouth to hesitantly touch my tongue to his lips, and he gives me a startled but eager moan and dives into my mouth. I feel a hand move from my arm and tangle into my hair to tilt my head as he plunges deeper with his tongue. I moan appreciatively and start to subtly rock my hips against his own, seeking any sort of friction. Not one for subtly, Tate lifts one of my legs around his hips and starts thrusting directly against my now dripping core in time with his tongue in my mouth. His grip on my hair becomes tighter to the point of being painful and his thrusting hips even more urgent, but I'm far from complaining. To my surprise the dull pain in my scalp quickly turns into a throbbing pleasure. I'm mindless with desire for this dark and mysterious boy at this point, and against my will moan again. This seems to bring him back to the moment and he pulls his mouth away from mine quickly. I almost pout and pull him back to me but restrain myself. Where is this pathetic neediness coming from?

"Are you ok?" He questions, staring into my eyes seriously with a concerned look.

"Uhm of course, why? Did I do something wrong? That was my first kiss", I mutter embarrassed.

"No, no! You were perfect", and he smiles and pecks my nose

"I just wanted to make sure I didn't scare you or anything. I got a little carried away." He shyly smiles and I can't help the blush that heats my face.

"Your just saying that" I retort, but Tate's not having any of that.

"Well I guess I could be lying to you", he drawls out and a mischievous gleam lights his eyes. He closes in on me again, pushes my hair off my shoulder, and starts littering a path of soft kisses from my shoulder leading to my ear. His pace is achingly slow and by the time he makes it to my ear I'm on the verge of panting.

"But this can't exactly lie", he whispers, and I feel him thrust his hard bulge against my core. And then he quickly pulls away.

"Well I guess I better get going" he says, cool as a cucumber as I'm a hot mess leaning against the wall. This just isn't fair.

"Yeah, it's getting pretty late and I have to get up for stupid school is the morning"

At the thought of school my mood instantly crashes from the rare high it had reached. Tate can tell and he reaches forward to touch my face.

"Hey, hey. Don't let school get you down. If that bitch messes with you again you show her how tough you really are. I'll come over again as soon as I can get outta my house and you can tell me all about it"

"Sounds good" I offer him a smile.

He starts to lower himself out of the window and I watch as his entire decent down. When he reaches the lawn he triumphantly smiles up to me and waves. I wave back and watch him run off into the dark. As I collapse into my bed and let sleep consume me, all I can think is what a night.

Tate's POV

I didn't know how Violet would react to me climbing up the lattice to her room, but I knew from watching her she was shy yet fiery when provoked, and I didn't know what Violet I would get this night. All that I knew was that I needed to make up to her for encounter in the bathroom. I was startled by my desire for her and in turn things I wanted to say came out very wrong. Like how I knew what it was like to use cutting as an outlet, when you feel so overwhelmed that you need to just escape from everything and allow yourself to feel something. I mean everyone was entitled to that? Right? Feeling something? I wanted to tell her not to be ashamed. But instead I came off like a dick. And I wouldn't be getting any where with that behavior.

So I climbed up the lattice to my room- I mean her room, proud of myself for not falling even thought it wouldn't really matter. If I "died" I would just heal within a matter of minutes. When she saw me starring at her through the window she looked so surprised I thought she might not let me in. But then she rushed to the window to help pull me through, and of course I fell on top of her. While I enjoyed feeling her tiny body beneath mine I'm sure she didn't enjoy being crushed by me, so I quickly pulled her up and promptly apologized. Less than one minute around her and I'm already fucking up again. After we clear the air on the bathroom incident I try to make her feel more comfortable by telling her about my cutting. She seems surprised at first but then we're sharing personal stories about our self harm like we've known each other for years. When she tells me about the girl bullying her at school I'm filled with murderous thoughts. How dare anyone try to hurt this delicate girl?

The thought of her going through high school an outcast not only makes me sad for her but cements my desire for her even more. In every way she is turning out to be a kindred spirit. For not that first time I'm frustrated that I'm stuck in this house. But I guess it's better, considering that if I could leave the property I'd probably murder the teenage girl giving Violet a hard time. And even though Violet might not like her, she probably wouldn't like it if I killed her either. We may be kindred spirits in some ways, but I suspect that murder is where that ends.

Laying in bed with her, listening to music and talking, is the happiest I've been since I died. I notice when I'm around Violet the thoughts that normally consume me to cause havack in some way, whether it would murder or destruction, are quieted. The darkness that is always creeping in the edge of my mind is gone. All I can notice is the way she hides behind a curtain of her sun kissed hair when she's shy and blushing, and the way her lips curve in that delectable smirk. I want to bury my fingers in that hair and hold her in place. I want to dive into that mouth and never come up for air, and I want to do a lot more than just that. But despite Violets lack of innocence in certain areas, I'm almost positive she's a virgin. I don't want to push anything too fast and scare her away, so I light a cig to distract me. If my mother was good for anything it would be for the fact that she keeps me stocked up on cigarettes. I notice as I start to smoke that Violet is staring at me with blatant desire, and I offer the cigarette to her just so I can put my lips somewhere that hers have been.

I realize that she definitely wants me to kiss her, and I decide then and there it can not happen on the bed, I don't think I could control myself in the bed. And I want to make this good for her. I get up to leave and while we're saying goodbye maneuver us so that she's in between the wall and me. I looked into her eyes for confirmation, and then go for it. It starts out soft and innocent, and I can tell she's never even kissed anyone before which makes me even more aroused than I already am. But soon she gets then hang of it and I feel her tongue against my lips, asking for entrance. I can't help the startled groan that escapes my mouth, and I more than willingly oblige. We're pulling against each other, trying to get closer, and soon she's subtlety gently rocking her hips against mine, but at this point I'm losing my ability to be gentle. All I really want to do is strip her right her and fuck her against the wall. And then on the floor. And the bed. Actually everywhere. But instead I lift one of her legs around my hips and start strongly thrusting against her core, in time with my tongue in her mouth. I'm holding her head in place with tight fist in her hair which must be painful, but she doesn't complain and I can't really control myself at this point anyway. When she gives out a desperate moan it brings me back to reality and I step back from her.

She leans against the wall for a minute, panting and trying to gather herself. Then she shyly smiles at me and blushes, and it's so fucking cute and sexy and I just want to kiss her again, but I have to remind myself to stay in check. I ask if she's ok and she reassures me she is, and confirms my thoughts that this was in fact her first kiss. She's worried that she wasn't a good kisser and I can't help but playing with her a little bit and "showing her" what a good kisser she is. I leave promising her that I'll come visit her again as soon as I can get out of my house, but what she doesn't realize is that after I climb down the lattice I'll be back up in that room with her for the rest of the night.


End file.
